And of the daunce joly Robyn,
Was tho become a Jacobyn.
But sothly, what so men hym calle,
Freres Preachours ben good men alle;
Her order wickedly they beren,
Suche mynstrelles if they weren.
To harpe and gitterne, daunce and play,
For if he can wel foote and daunce,
It may hym greetly do avaunce.
Among eke, for thy lady sake,
Songes and complayntes that thou make,
For that wole meven in hir herte,
Whanne they reden of thy smerte.
Loke that no man for scarce thee holde,
For that may greve thee many folde.
Resoun wole that a lover be
In his yiftes more large and fre
Than cherles that ben not of lovyng.
For who therof can ony thyng,
He shal be leef ay for to yeve,
In Loves lore whoso wolde leve;
For he that thorough a sodeyn sight,
Or for a kyssyng, anoonright.
Whanne thou yedest in the daunce
With hir, and haddest aqueyntaunce.
Hir aqueyntaunce is perilous,
First softe, and aftir noious;
She hath [thee] trasshed, withoute wen.
The God of Love hadde the not sen,
Ne hadde Ydilnesse thee conveyed
In the verger where Myrthe hym pleyed.
If foly have supprised thee,
Do so that it recovered be,
And be wel ware to take nomore
Counsel, that greveth aftir sore.
He is wis that wol hymsilf chastise.
And though a yong man in ony wise
Trespace among, and do foly,
Late hym not tarye, but hastily
Late hym amende what so be mys.
They laugh and daunce, trippe and synge,
And ley not up for her lyvynge,
But in the taverne all dispendith
The wynnyng that God hem sendith.
Thanne goth he, fardeles for to ber
With as good chere as he dide er.
To swynke and traveile he not feynith,
For for to robben he disdeynith.
But right anoon aftir his swynk
He goth to taverne for to drynk.
All these ar riche in abundaunce
That can thus have suffisaunce
Wel more than can an usurere,
As God wel knowith, withoute were.
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